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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26059366">The Living Have No Heirs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcornChangeling/pseuds/AcornChangeling'>AcornChangeling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthur doesn't want heirs, But he doesn't want a family, Gen, He doesn't want to marry a lady, I don't have a beta and I'm pretty sure you can tell, This was supposed to be a one-shot but it got longer, and now I don't know where it ends, because face it he'd be super effed up about the whole thing, help me please, so he goes looking for one</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:09:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26059366</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcornChangeling/pseuds/AcornChangeling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Heirs are for the dead. Living people have families. </p><p>If they're lucky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Quote Prompt Memes</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Seat at the Table</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/quoteonlyprompts">quoteonlyprompts</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>You know, technically, a living person has no heirs</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Art thought the sword was heavy, it was nothing compared to the damn crown. </p><p>The sword, at least, was useful on occasion. </p><p>“King Leodegrance of Cameliard has a daughter of suitable age,” Bill said. “She’s rumored to be quite beautiful, but, then again, most princesses are.” </p><p>Art winced. “Not this again. We have more important things to discuss.” </p><p>The fall of the tower had consequences. Greybeard was only the beginning. Destroying the fear of Vortigern also destroyed the root of his control over England. The barons were scrambling. Some wished to curry favor with him, some wished to overthrow him, all wished to see if the change in leadership would allow them to wrangle more power for themselves. </p><p>Outside his borders, foreign kings looked upon Camelot with hungry eyes, believing a man raised in a whorehouse no match for their might, sword or no sword. Bill’s spies already reported that five in particular were forming a tentative alliance against him. The Roman Empire had had their eye on his island for a long time. Though both Uther and Vortigern had kept them at bay, Bedivere thought they may come after Arthur. Arthur believed him. It would be in keeping with the general theme of his life. </p><p>Inside his kingdom, he had a whole system of corrupt and power-hungry Blacklegs to dismantle, and create something more just, fair, and trustworthy in its place. From scratch. Largely, he had been taking both his and Bedivere’s surviving men, hastily knighting them, and sending them out to be overwhelmed by the task of working openly and together. It was a terrible system and they really needed to organize… something.  Anything. </p><p>Closer to home, there was the matter of the sirens in the basement Maggie and Wetstick discovered one day while investigating the disappearance of Princess Catia. Art hadn’t even had a moment to mourn the cousin he didn’t remember. They’d released the birds she kept as pets, but they kept returning to one of the towers. He suspected Blue of leaving food for them.</p><p>Yet the topic of discussion amongst his knights today was his god damned love life. </p><p>“You need an heir,” Sir Bedivere said. </p><p>No, not even his love life. His sex life. Specifically, the lack of fragile, squalling evidence he even had a sex life.</p><p>“King Leodegrance was one of the first kings to accept your rule. It would be wise to reward his behavior and hope many follow him," Bedivere said. </p><p>“By marrying his daughter to an orphan raised a whore house?” Arthur asked. “I’m sure everyone would consider that a great incentive.” </p><p>Sir Dinadan winced. He was the only one to do so, but he’d only been sitting at the table for about a week. He was unused to the bluntness Art tended to use when seated here. Outside this room, the Court was much subtler when degrading his upbringing. </p><p>“A proposal of marriage, at least,” Bill needled. “Royal marriages are as much currency as gold, Art. You needn’t actually follow through. We can fabricate some fault for the girl if we find something more advantageous down the line.” </p><p>“We’re not doing that,” Art growled. “Whoever she is, whatever she’s like, she doesn’t deserve to have her future damaged and made uncertain by a bunch of strangers.” </p><p>Bill grinned his most punch-able grin, and Art regretted that he couldn’t just follow through on the expression’s promises anymore. “See? You haven’t met her and you’re already defending her.” </p><p>“Arthur defends all women from ill treatment,” Maggie said, sitting in her chair like a queen. She was the only woman at the table so far, but Art kept hoping that would change, somehow. “It is one of his more kingly attributes.” </p><p>Art tried to take that as the compliment it was meant to be. He tried not to bristle that being a decent bloke was a kingly attribute and not something to be expected from everyone at all times. </p><p>That was another thing to add to his ever growing list of things he needed to change in his country.</p><p>“We have more important things to discuss than marriage,” Art said. Again. </p><p>“You require an heir,” Bedivere said. “An established chain of inheritance will make everyone feel more secure under your leadership.” </p><p>“Foreign powers will be less likely to invade if they know there’s another born king waiting in the wings for them,” Percy said. </p><p>“Having a queen will allow you to delegate several of the more ceremonial and diplomatic duties of ruling to her supervision,” Bedivere said, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Especially those which you find most tedious.”</p><p>Art scowled at each of his knights in turn and looked pleadingly at Sir Tristan for help. Wet Stick always had his back. </p><p>Except when he didn’t. Sir Tristan merely shrugged.</p><p>"His Majesty is correct. Surely we have more pressing matters than marriage," Sir Dinadan said. </p><p>"Thank you," Art said.</p><p>The young knight winked at him. </p><p>Then, unfortunately, Maggie opened her mouth to say the worst thing it was possible for any of them to say. “Is there someone you love?” </p><p>They all looked at him. </p><p>Art took a very deep breath and exhaled through his nose. He shook his head. </p><p>“Do you want to be?” Maggie asked gently. “Before you marry?” </p><p>Dozens of faces flashed through his mind, all women, all weeping, bruised, bleeding, or dead. All claimed to love some man or another. As far as he could remember, he knew of only one couple who'd loved each other equally. His parents, and look at how wonderful <i>their</i> lives had been. He couldn't fathom falling in love. Couldn't fathom how irresponsible leading someone to that kind of pain would be. </p><p>Bill saved him from answering with a loud snort. “People may marry for love, but Arthur is the embodiment of a nation,” he said. Art did not bristle at the implication he was not a person. By Bill’s definition, apparently he never had been.</p><p>“Love seems trivial when we should be worried about aggression from Orkney or Rome,” Arthur said. “At least, let’s come up with a better system of protecting my subjects before we worry about my unborn children.” </p><p>Bedivere opened his mouth again, but he was interrupted. </p><p>“I agree with His Majesty.” </p><p>It was rare for George to call Art by his title of courtesy. He’d known Art longer than anyone else sitting at this giant cheese wheel of a table.</p><p>George spoke rarely in public, preferring to talk to Art in private. Then Art could bring George’s concerns to the other knights as if they were his own. Art thought this was because most of the noble born knights didn’t take George seriously unless he beat them in hand to hand combat. </p><p>Now, just because George <i>could</i> beat them all in hand to hand combat didn’t mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life in the sparring ring. </p><p>“A living person has no heirs,” George continued. “Heirs are for the dead.” </p><p>“But-” Percy began. </p><p>George silenced the other man with a look. “Whatever a living person may wish, by the time the inheritance is carried out, they will be dead, and therefore have no say in the matter. The survivors may follow the deceased recommendations, but nothing forces them to. If it did, Arthur would have been crowned king years ago.” </p><p>Everyone looked at Arthur. Sir Dinadan had an especially horrified expression. It would take him time to grow accustomed to the realities of Art's life. Art wished him luck. It had been twenty god damn years and he still woke up in a cold sweat most nights. Weeks after killing Vortigern hadn't stopped his nightmares. They were just different now. More detailed. </p><p>He tried not to think about how a sweat drenched bed shared with a thrashing, terrified man was no bed a woman would want. </p><p>“King Nentres of Garlot has a daughter, doesn’t he?” Percy said, as if thinking about the realities of George’s statements weren’t worth the time.  Perhaps that was why George mostly didn't speak in public.</p><p>Bedivere shook his head. “You forget that Queen Elaine is Arthur’s half-sister by his mother’s first marriage. Her daughter is Arthur’s niece.” </p><p>Everyone scowled at the thought. Everyone except Arthur. He thought of Catia’s birds in the tower. The last reminder of one of his blood relatives, and he’d only ever seen them from a distance. Blue knew the birds better than he did. As Maggie had known Catia better than he did. As Bedivere has known Uther and Igraine better than he did. </p><p>He wanted a niece.</p><p>“Invite them to Camelot,” he said. </p><p>“Excuse me?” Bill asked. “You can’t marry your cousin, boy.” </p><p>Arthur scowled and decided that just because he could no longer punch his subordinates in public didn’t mean he couldn’t do it in private. If anyone got to call him "boy," it wasn't Bill. “George is right. You can discuss my heirs after I’m dead. In the meantime, apparently I have a family I should learn about. Friends are better than enemies, and what better friends than your own family?” </p><p>That last was somewhat less persuasive than it could have been, considering the ever-present specter of Uthur’s murder by his own brother’s hand. The shadow of it presided over everything Arthur would ever do in his entire life. </p><p>“King Nentres has a son as well. King Lot’s wife is also your half-sister,” Maggie reminded him. “She has four sons.” </p><p>“Invite them too,” Arthur said. </p><p>“King Lot hates you,” Bill reminded him. “I think Morgause probably does as well. She was your father’s most vocal detractor when he proposed to your mother.” He smiled. “Despite being about eight at the time. If they come, it will be to spy on you.” </p><p>Art shrugged. “So let’s show them what we’re made of,” he said. “Maybe we can convince them not to hate us.” </p><p>“Probably not all of them,” Bedivere said. </p><p>“Even one is better than none,” Art said. </p><p>Eventually, everyone agreed. Even Bill. “It will be done, sire,” the archer said with a smile that did not make Art want to punch him any less.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Family Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Awkward family dinners have been tradition in England for thousands of years.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was the stupidest idea Art had ever had. </p><p>And that was saying a lot. Art had a long history of sinking his teeth into a stupid idea and refusing to let go until he made it work. </p><p>But this was <i>painful.</i></p><p>He expected it to be awkward. He could deal with awkward easily. </p><p>The kings he’d invited to dinner sat at either side of him, two epaulettes that would sooner entrap him in his own tomb than protect him from enemies, though they were brothers by marriage. That was fine. Expected. </p><p>It was his half-sisters that hurt him. </p><p>Elaine ignored their connection. A serene blond whose eyes were too like his own to be a coincidence, and yet she ignored or pretended not to notice every similarity. To her, he was not a brother but an upstart. Someone who had yet to prove his worth in her eyes, sword be damned. </p><p>Art couldn’t help but respect that. </p><p>Morgause had their mother's brown hair but she must have had her father’s eyes. They were large and so dark as to appear black in all lights but the high noon sun, when they appeared reddish brown. </p><p>King Lot may have considered himself a mighty king, but his wife was really the one to reckon with. </p><p>Unlike her sister, Morgause acknowledged that they were family, but that appeared to enrage her. She clearly hated Uther and had decided to hate Arthur too. </p><p>It hurt to look at them.</p><p>He couldn’t help but look for his mother in their faces. His only clear memory of her was the moment she died. He wanted something else. For Elaine’s laugh to be the same as Igraine’s. For Morgause to pick up her skirts and walk up stairs the same way his own mother had. For Elaine to wear her hair in a similar fashion. For Morguase to raise a single blonde eyebrow in an echo of what his mother may have done. For him to see them doing something, anything, and remember his own mother doing it too.</p><p>He wanted them to remind him that Igraine had been alive as well as dead. </p><p>They only reminded him of her face the moment she died. Shocked and agonized and rapidly diminishing. </p><p>“Do you think I could try again, tomorrow?” a young voice asked from the end of the table. </p><p>“You’ll have to ask Sir George,” Art said, focusing on the young man. “He’s always been choosy with who he teaches.” </p><p>Gawain nodded, a stubborn set to his mouth. Though King Nantres hadn’t brought either his son or his daughter to visit Camelot, King Lot had brought his two eldest. Both boys took after their black-haired father. Though their father’s hair was silvered at the temples and pulled back in a neat horsetail at his nape, his sons’ hair had their mother’s unruly curls. They each had Lot’s hazel eyes. Agravain’s eyes had more green than brown and Gawain’s had more brown than green. </p><p>Arthur liked Gawain very much. Despite the hatred his parents clearly tried to instill in him, Gawain appeared determined to come to his own conclusions and make his own decisions. Moreover, he’d already shown a talent for recognizing and learning from his own mistakes. </p><p>Agravain sneered. “You lower yourself by accepting tutelage from a foreigner and a devil.” </p><p>Arthur bristled but Gawain, having already made this mistake and already learned from it, came to George’s defenses quicker. “Sir George is a good man and a sworn knight of the born king,” Gawain said. Art thought about knighting him right then and there. “Moreover, he’s a knight of such skill he could beat us both honorably, even if we were armed and he was not. To be taught by such a man is an honor.” He paused before adding, “To dismiss him as a devil is to admit that you could never beat him, no matter the circumstances.” </p><p>Agravain turned red at the insult. Art thought that if he could get the boy away from his mother, he would make a good knight too. </p><p>“Don’t fall in love with a court of mongrels,” Morgause practically growled, because Morgause apparently didn’t believe in diplomacy or basic manners. Her husband said nothing, because her husband was merely a tool for legitimizing her power. Much like Excalibur was Arthur’s tool for legitimizing his own power. </p><p>Elaine said nothing either. </p><p>King Nentres did seem offended. “Control your wife, Lot.” </p><p>“Mind your own business,” Morgause snapped back. “Or will you bow to a brothel boy the way you bowed to Uther and Vortigern? Uther rewarded you with a wife. Vortigern rewarded you with exclusive trade agreements. What has the boy promised you? Discount rates at all the whorehouses in his kingdom?” </p><p>“Mother,” Gawain said. </p><p>Elaine took a sip of wine. </p><p>Arthur wondered which of these women their mother was more like. The spitfire practically vibrating with the force of her hatred or the statue of ice who refused to feel anything at all?</p><p>And if the answer was that their mother was not like either of them, what had happened to make them this way? Something Vortigern did? </p><p>Or was it Uther's fault? </p><p>“I have yet to discuss trade agreements with either of your husbands,” Arthur said. “It seemed rude to jump straight into business before you’d properly rested from the journey here.” </p><p>A journey Art knew to have been fraught, even for a monarch. Outside of the lands that had accepted Arthur’s authority, bandits ran rampant. Not every king had worked as quickly as Arthur to fill the void left by Vortigern, even if his solution of just knighting anyone he liked with a quick oath was half-assed.</p><p>And if <i>some</i> of those bandits were old contacts of Goose Fat Bill’s who would immediately move to another location as soon as the local king or baron swore fealty to Arthur, well… such was life. </p><p>Neither Nentres nor Lot had yet accepted Arthur’s help in containing them. Both of them had been accosted on their journey. </p><p>“Such considerations are not necessary,” Morgause practically spat. “You’ll find those hailing from Orkney are made of sterner stuff than perhaps you are accustomed to.” </p><p>King Nentres appeared more angry at Morgause and her behavior than he did at anything Arthur had done or represented. Art made note of it to use later. </p><p>“We were attacked three times on our journey,” Gawain said. “While we survived, we suffered the loss of too many good men. However stronger the men of Orkney are than those outside our country, our primary enemy is bandits, most of whom are also men of Orkney.”</p><p>Morgause sneered. “Lies! <i>True</i> men of Orkney would not debase themselves with such an occupation.” </p><p>“Regardless of where they come from, if you require any aid against these lawless men,” Arthur said, completely sincerely, “Camelot would be honored to provide it.” He thought about continuing, some speech about the responsibilities of a ruler, but, though Bedivere had given him a lot of training in “how to talk like a noble,” he wasn’t that good at it yet. </p><p>Morgause sneered again, and Agravain, ever his mother’s son, followed suit. </p><p>Gawain looked him directly in the eyes, and Arthur stared back. He willed the boy to see him, the only person in the room who seemed willing to even try. </p><p>Gawain looked away first. When he did, Art had no idea what the boy had seen.</p>
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